Restless Sinner, Rest in Sin
by TheGhostisReal
Summary: AU. Title from a Black Rebel Motorcycle Club song. How far will you go to protect the one you never wanted?
1. Chapter 1

Time for a new one! Changing the way Gambit got into the X-Men a little, for my own personal amusement. I make no money from this, and, being as I am not of Cajun descent, I have a spot of bother with the accent. You can tell me if I'm getting it wrong.

Restless Sinner, Rest in Sin

The boy was very nearly dead when he brought their Storm home. He cradled the girl in his strong thin arms, wrapped her up in his coat, forsaking his form to the elements. The bottoms of his sleeves had been turned into bandages and he fell against the doorjam, hardly awake when Logan opened the door to the noise.

"Blue, I got a couple for ya'. Goin' out fer a smoke, an' I'll be in to check on 'em." Logan snipped the end of his cigar, and let Hank gather the kids in his arms to take them into the lab. The boy was tall, all limbs, Logan noted, probably not too long out of puberty. Smelled like cigarettes and something strange, like energy, if that had a smell it was lingering on the kid. He lit the cigar and watched the rain come down, heard the mansion rousing to the return of their girl, and the new boy, who brought her home.

He slunk back into the mansion and down the stairs into the lab, the boy was hooked up to monitors and Hank was chattering to himself excitedly. He couldn't see Storm. Couldn't even smell her.

"Where's 'Ro?" He called through the lab.

"I have her in containment, she's begun to grow back into the form we know." Hank smiled, let his furred hand rest across Logan's back. "Her companion is most fascinating, however. You should have seen his eyes when he woke a few minutes ago." Hank continued making notes to himself. "I'll like to see his power when he wakes fully."

"Do we know anything about him, doc?"

"Only that he had four forms of identification with four different names on them, but every one cited his home town as New Orleans."

"Probably can't hide the accent." Logan grumbled, and sat in one of the lab chairs.

"Likely. I'm going to check on Ororo, do you mind watching to see if he wakes?"

"Don't mind."

Hank wandered off, still talking to himself about mental states and the like. Logan sunk into a chair and stared at the boy. All arms and legs, a sweep of almost red auburn hair made his features hard to tell, but he couldn't see him as older than twenty. His face was angles and lines, softened by long eyelashes and plush lips. Kid was probably much the looker when he was conscious. Logan settled further back into the chair and let his senses pan out. Something was making him want to protect the boy, and that feeling radiated from the boy himself. He wondered if it was part of his mutation, that need to let him come to no harm. Survival instinct. Kid probably had no issue getting his way when conscious. But then why had he chosen to save Ororo? Why would he bring her to her home when he could get what he wanted out of anyone. He was tossing in his sleep, pulling out the few wires Hank had plugged him into to monitor his rest. Mumbling aloud, he fell into a dream that looked like it was against him. Logan could sympathize. He shook the boy's shoulder to wake him.

"Kid. Hey, kid. S'ok. You're safe."

His eyes shot open and Logan almost jumped. He hadn't expected the boy's eyes, red on black, wide and frightened. They were these demon eyes, and of all the mutations Logan had seen at least those he had been prepared for. He'd known the kid was a mutant, yet he looked so human the eyes had caught him off guard. Boy covered them, breathed heavy. "Désole," he whispered, "désole."

"What're you sorry for? Should be thanking you, brought 'Ro back."

He looked up between his fingers, eyes smiling. "I made it?"

Logan tried to grant him a warm smile. "Yeah."

"Merci."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing her home." Logan put his hand on the boy's, he was still trying to cover his eyes. "Kid move your hands."

"'M not a kid."

"Kid to me. Move them."

The door shut and Hank walked in. "Good morning, my friend. I think I speak for everyone when I thank you for returning Miss Ororo to us. We'd missed her deeply."

The boy curled into the bed, covering his face, hiding. He trembled slightly, held onto himself, kid had to be fairly tall if he stood up proper. Probably didn't look as much like a kid, come to think of it.

"Oh my." Hank muttered to himself, approaching the kid with trepidation. He checked monitors and looked to Logan, "How long has he been awake?"

"Two minutes, tops. Keeps trying to cover his eyes, doesn't know where he is."

"Well the second one is hardly a surprise. I looked over some of the results, none of our databases are aware he exists."

"'Dat's… Is 'de point." He whispered, still hiding in himself. "Wasn' suppos'to exist proper."

"Kid?" Logan put his hand on the boy's shoulder, "What's that mean?"

"'Zactly what it sound like." He settled himself into the bed. "'Dis'un don' wanna' be no bother, he leave soon as he's rested up."

"You're more than welcome to stay, friend. Do you have a name?" Hank was as open and friendly as Logan had ever seen him, but the boy was unmoved. Instead, he curled deeper into himself, mumbled something Logan couldn't quite pick up, despite preternatural hearing. He grabbed both his hands, forced him to look at Logan. His eyes seemed almost to glow.

"Got a name, kid?"

"G-Gambit." He stammered. Then, more confident. "C'n call me Gambit."


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Internet: Yeah, I'm sorry, haven't been much in the mood for writing recently. I think it's the heat. So here's chapter 2, send me love, I'll send you kisses. Or cupcakes. I make no money from this, that's why I work at Target.

"Not a name." Logan growled.

"But it will do for now." Hank interrupted. "Do you mind if I check your vitals, Gambit?" He reached out, hand offered, to the kid curled into the bed, eyes darting nervously. He scratched at his arms.

"No doctors." At least that he was confident in. He got up and ran. Kid was fast, on top of it all. Logan let him have a head start. Let the kid's scent start to face from this room before taking off on the trail. The Gambit was fast, but he didn't know where he was going, and he was still weak. Still the scent was hazy, electric, and Logan couldn't get a grip. He lost him near the stairs. Searched everywhere he could, but the kid was gone. Just a haze of electric scent around the staircase. Figured the kid had gone up, trying to find a way out.

"Hey Red," he called through a mental connection in the mansion. "There's a red eyed kid callin' himself Gambit lost in here. Help find him would ya'? He's freaked out and I don't want it worse, don' know what he can do yet."

He heard her voice in his mind. "I'll help."

"Thanks Red."

He made his way up to the mansion proper, trying to sniff out the kid. He didn't leave much to be found, no one awake even knew he was there. He searched the mansion, found hints but no boy, even in the darkest corners.

Half a scent, barely the hint of it, took him to the roof. The kid, Gambit, was trying to light a cigarette with his fingertips. Logan pulled out a lighter and did it for him. "There ya' go."

"_Merci_," he gasped out.

Logan sat beside him. "Cold out here, kid."

"Guess." He curled into himself, clutching the cigarette like his life depended on it. "F'got my coat back 'dere."

"Y'can go get it."

"_Non._"

"Don't want to go back to the doc, do ya'? He's a nice guy. But you ain' gonna' believe me."

He shook his head and buried further within himself, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the roof.

"Fine. But you're comin' back in, least to say goodbye to 'Ro." He picked the boy up and carried him down from the roof. He didn't struggle, was light, defeated.

"Hungry, kid?"

He nodded, slightly, curled against Logan's body. There again was that instinct to protect him, to hold him close and care for him. Must be a mutation, Logan didn't even have a reason to like the kid.

"I'll make Jean make you some dinner." Logan set the boy down in the kitchen, on a stool, reopened the mental link. "Red?"

"Yes Logan?"

"Kid's in the kitchen."

A few moments of silence passed, the boy's head on his arms, laying on the kitchen counter and letting thick hair cover his eyes. Logan couldn't think of what to say to him, each of the million questions seemed to be too much to ask. He twisted a coin around long fingers expertly, his strange eyes focused on that, rather than anything else in the large room. "Where Stormy?" he whispered through a thick Cajun accent.

"'Ro?"

"Mm." He nodded slightly.

"Not sure." He started to offer to find her, when Jean sat next to the new kid at the kitchen counter.

"Hi." She smiled, and it occurred to Logan that the boy, who he kept wanting to think of as younger, wasn't that much so than Jean was. Boy was probably eighteen, at least. It was the way he held himself, sad, scared, alone, that made him seem younger. In the presence of a woman, that all changed.

It was strange, the way he sat up straight, this smile painted his features and he was confident, even arrogant, strange eyes glistening and he took Jean's hand, kissed the back of it.

"Evenin'." He smiled. Something that might have been jealousy, might have been that power he was starting to hate, shot through Logan.

Jean began to blush. "And who are you?"

"Y'can call 'dis'un' Gambit, _chere._"

"Gambit, well, would you like dinner?"

"_Oui_." He smiled, and that feeling coursed through Logan again, "_merci_." Wished that smile was for him, but he relegated himself to a beer and another barstool. Jean went on about the mansion, it's history, giving Gambit no time to speak, and he didn't seem to need any, watching Logan's beer intently, his eyes clouded over. Logan grabbed another from the fridge, slid it over to the boy.

"Logan, is Gambit old enough to drink?"

"Don't care." Logan mumbled. "Saw the kid when he got here, he needs a drink."

Jean started to rebuke him, and stopped. She set a plate of sandwiches in front of the new boy, and sat across from him. "Are you old enough to drink?"

He smiled. "Do you wan' me 'ta be?"

"No, Gambit, I want you to be who you are." She smiled, the slightest hint of a blush touching her cheeks. Logan wanted to gut her for a second, and reminded himself of the boy's mutation. It was probably affecting her as well. He wondered if they both saw the same boy.


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Internet- Jesus I took far too long getting this to you guys. Sorry. So sorry, I hope you like this one. I love you all and I promise you a quicker update this time!

He dug into the sandwiches with eagerness, almost desperation. Logan remembered learning, probably around the same age, to never assume there will be a meal after this one, take what you can. Judging from the way the boy put away the food, likely it had been a while since his last meal, and he thought it would be the same until his next. Logan wondered about the kid's story, but one look at him told him he couldn't ask. Maybe, one day, the boy would tell his story on his own. He could hope, he didn't want to hope, he didn't want to like the kid sitting next to him, tipping an empty beer bottle as though more would trickle out.

"Need another, kid?"

He nodded. "_Sil vous plais_?"

Logan brought him another, popped it open with a claw. The boy's eyes went wide.

"School for freaks, kid. Your 'Ro took you here, didn't she?"

"Stormy ok?"

"We can go see her?"

"Means goin' back to the lab."

He shrugged, sunk into himself and took the opened beer. He examined it, slowly, turning it slowly in his hands, before he drank.

"Don' worry kid, 'm not poison."

He drank, tentative. Successfully not dead, he went at the beer with enthusiasm, leaving another empty bottle. "We see 'Ro now?"

"Yeah. Need me to come with you?"

"Don' like labs."

"Yeah. Me neither. Come on." He reached out to grab the boy, and stopped. He didn't know what would set this kid off, and he didn't know the scope of his power yet. Didn't know how the kid would react to being touched so casually. He was going to have to get used to it, though, the mansion could get very touchy-feely when they were so inclined. He was actually surprised Hank hadn't tried to hug the boy when he realized he was awake. But he led the boy downstairs to Hank's lab, checking back to make sure he followed well.

"Gambit ain' yer real name."

"_Non_." He held his arms around himself.

"What is?"

"It don' matter."

"Yeah it does."

"_Non._"

"Fine. I guess we all got secrets." He pressed the communicator switch outside the lab. "Hank?"

Hank's voice came from above the door. "Logan, yes?"

"Yeah. New kid wants to see 'Ro."

"She's sleeping, but you're more than welcome in."

The boy was leaning against the wall, watching the speaker above the door. "She goin'a' be okay, sir?"

"Of course, Gambit. You can see her, but she isn't yet awake."

"I wait, sir."

"Logan, why don't you find our new friend a place to sleep for the night, get cleaned up and the like? He can see Miss Munroe in the morning."

"Don' give me nowhere special. C'n sleep on 'da floor."

"Yer' not sleepin' on the floor kid. There's an empty room by mine, you'll sleep there."

"If I say no?"

"Guess you don't have to. But where else'll you go?"

He shrugged. "Somewhere."

"Stay here until 'Ro wakes up."

Gambit nodded, sunk to the floor and held himself.

"Hank?"

"Logan?"

"Can I grab the kid's coat?"

The door buzzed open, allowing Logan inside. Hank clattered away at a computer, hunched into himself, an open box of cereal half-spilled to the side. Ororo was sleeping on a hospital bed, her clothes too small for her long form. Logan paused a moment to brush her hair from her face.

"It will be nice to have her back, won't it?"

"Yeah," Logan grabbed the ratty brown coat, pockets heavy laden down, with what he wouldn't look. "You take samples from the kid?"

"I did. I'd not run them without his permission, though."

"Won't even give us his name."

"His trust, I think, will be hard to gain."

"C'n say that again."

Logan sunk onto a chair. He didn't want to go back out and convince the kid he was wanted, because he wasn't sure the kid was going to be wanted by anyone other than he or Jean. Though how someone could not want that boy around, he didn't know. Gambit was magnetic. He had drawn Logan in, he wasn't sure if it was mutation or simple survival instinct. He wanted to keep the boy, and he wanted to sit where he was until that feeling went away. He hadn't cared about the kid when he was half-dead outside the mansion, protecting Ororo from the rain. He would have let the kid die until he saw him, really saw him. He'd learned not to get attached to people- they were transient. They were breakable. This kid especially, the way he shivered on the roof, hands trembling as he tried to light a cigarette, he'd break easy.

Logan shook it off and left the lab, the kid was still sitting there, leaning into the wall, he held himself to not fall apart. Logan draped the coat over him.

"Lets find you a shower and a bed, right?"

He nodded, stood on shaky legs, and buried himself in the coat. Logan lead him back up the stairs, the empty room next to his on the third floor. All that sat in it was a dresser and a bed. He stepped in, hesitant, stared at the walls. "Don' need m'own room."

"Shower's through that door, there's a bed. I'm next door if you need anything."

"Water?"

"Yeah." The boy was too small for the room, dwarfed by the things. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared off into space.

"I should find you something to sleep in." Again, that want to care for him. He'd have to make Hank run those samples, find his mutation, if that was really it. Needed for that to be it, he couldn't handle wanting the kid.


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Internet: It's here. Don't hate me for how long it took. Hate the rest of the internet and emulators of old Japanese RPG's for taking up my spare time.

Scrambled to his feet to find sleeping clothes, a clean towel. The boy used his coat as a blanket, rather than move the bed.

A towel came out of his own room, a pair of loose workout pants to serve as sleeping clothes. He'd borrow some training clothes from the lower levels for the boy in the morning, the clothes he had arrived in were torn, wet and stained. Made a note to make his way down once he was sure Gambit was asleep comfortably. Make Hank run the samples, find him clothes, try to unravel all this irritation. Let some steam off in the Danger Room while he was at it.

Knocked on the door he had put the boy behind. No answer, so he pushed it open. Kid was sitting in the window, legs hung down three stories, a cigarette lit perched between his fingers.

"Kid?"

"Mm-Hmm?"

"Get back in. Gonna' fall."

"No I ain'."

He grabbed the back of the kid's faded black shirt, yanked him back into the room deliberately. The kid's footing was good, he didn't even stumble, fell smooth back into the room, leaning against Logan for support. He was warm, smelled of cigarettes and spice. Logan knew he should stop thinking of the Cajun as a kid, he wasn't. It didn't matter how young he was, he had grown up either way. Logan knew he understood, he had grown up pretty fast. You never did for the right reasons. He wrapped his arms around the boy, guiding him into the room, and he moved with Logan, at ease, it seemed, in his arms. He didn't let go, at least, remained, soft and willing and he knew he shouldn't have those thoughts but he was there, enticing.

"Clean yourself up, swamp rat." Better than thinking of him as a kid.

He took the towel, sauntered into the bathroom like he knew he was being watched. Damnable creature was aware of the effect he had on others. Logan let a low growl take him and pushed out of the room, never mind waiting until he was asleep.

Pushed the door to Hank's lab open, he knew old Blue would still be awake and working, he wondered if the doctor bothered sleeping anymore, or if he had evolved past it. He was bent over a computer screen, mumbling to himself, a box of sugared breakfast cereal spilled out over the desk. Thinking, he shoved the dry clumps into his mouth, forming words with no sound.

"Blue?"

"Oh. Logan."

"You run the kid's samples yet?"

"Not without his consent. I do have some honor. Why are you so concerned?"

"You haven't noticed?"

"He does seem to have some sort of draw on you."

"Yeah. Kid's got somethin' to him, mutation or somethin'." He leaned against the wall, chewing on the end of a cigar to calm his nerves.

"When he wakes in the morning, we'll run a test of his power, provided he doesn't run, of course. I'm trying to run him through our databases, but no one seems to know this boy exists. I want to know what he could do."

"So do I," Logan grumbled, "Think he got that charm on Red, too. Reminds me, what do you see when you look at him?"

Hank laughed, "Tall, thin, red hair and red on black eyes. Underfed, twitchy, scared, were you worried you were seeing things?"

"For a minute." Logan pocketed the cigar. "Gonna' find him some warm clothes f'r tomorrow. Make him show us what he can do."

He grumbled out of the lab with no answers, hating the concept of trust, and knowing he wouldn't have run the samples either. Swamp Rat was allowed his secrets, unless they proved dangerous. He found some training clothes, things they would give the students the first time they came to the Danger Room, things he thought would fit the kid, loose black pants and a long sleeved shirt of the same color, he didn't presume to pick things he thought would fit the boy's style, if he had any. Practicality had seemed to dominate what he wore when he arrived. He dropped the clothes on a bench and called down a training dummy, shredding it and leaving the remains for Scott's early morning training. Pissing the Fearless Leader off always seemed to calm his nerves, and between the mess and the stray, Scott wasn't going to have a good morning.

He left the clothes on the bed that Gambit had burrowed into, sound asleep, quiet sounds escaping indulgent lips and his fingers curled as if he wanted something to hold on to. Logan let his hand move through the boy's hair, over his shoulder, tucking him into the bed, and shutting himself out of the room before that hypnotic charm got the better of him.

His own dreams were filled with the spice and the music of a long forgotten visit to New Orleans.


End file.
